Maybe..... Time flies!!!

Maybe, we’ll meet years later.

You know, catch each other’s eye across the street.

I’ll walk across to you, or you towards me.

We’ll go to the newest coffee shop right around the corner and ask for the menu. I’ll order the first thing I see and a black coffee like always; you’ll scan every item on it and end up ordering your usual iced coffee and a slice of banana bread. We’ll rush through the pleasantries in the first two minutes; we’ll talk of the weather, the latest cricket match, and the newest film that is to hit the screens.

A slightly uncomfortable silence may follow, but you’ll dispel it quickly by talking about the chaat stall that used to be here before the coffee place. Sooner than we know it, we fall back into the old rhythm of talking about things related by the most random of things to an outsider, but having such a clear connection in our minds.

You’ve always had the gift to make anyone feel comfortable, you know? That’s what drew me to you in the first place. I still remember seeing you sitting on the steps of college, vaguely placing your face in the crowd in the four months since the session had begun.

You are sitting with your feet dangling off the edge, toes curling up to let your shoes swing to and fro, but not slipping from off them. Earphones plugged fiercely into your ears, you have this scowl on your face as you stare into space. Your eyebrows are snapped together and you seem just about ready to stab someone in the neck with the pen in your hand that you’ve been clicking impatiently.

There are a lot of people on the steps, and I really want to sit down, so I consider asking if you could possibly shift a bit to your side because no other space is vacant enough without me sitting flesh to flesh with someone.

And just as glorious as the sunset we would share the first time we stood in the balcony, talking for hours and watching the sky grow darker with every fleeting minute, you look up at the exact moment I clear my throat – almost as though with telepathy.

I am floored by how quickly your face transforms from that ferocious scowl into what I would later label as your patent grin; eyes that were stormy a minute ago are now sparkling with enthusiasm. We talk for a while on the steps before you have to go, but you look back at me and wave goodbye, an honest smile on your face.

All this will rush through our minds while we talk, sipping our coffees, covert glances at each other to see how the years have treated us. I’ll notice your hair, slightly longer than what it used to be back then, but somehow softer around your face. You’ll look at the wrinkles that crease around my eyes when I chortle, almost spitting my coffee out as you mimic that strict teacher we would all be petrified of in college.

You’ll sober down when the conversation almost steers toward the time when we fell apart, tearing a bite out of your bread at a rather convenient time. It is then that I’ll look at the fine lines bracketing your mouth as your lips curl, your tongue darting out to pull a crumb stuck to your upper lip and realize that if possible, the time has made you more beautiful.

Because we used to fit like a pair of hands and perfectly tailored gloves, I know how awkward you get at times like these, and I pick up the conversation from where it dropped. You’ll shoot the quickest of grateful looks and before we know it, time runs by and we have to go.

We’ll get up, pay our bill and step out. You’ll go for a handshake while I focus on buttoning my coat; I’ll lean in just as you bend to fix the laces of your shoes. The game of cat-and-mouse makes us laugh and we hug each other, pulling into it just a bit tighter for the fraction of a second before letting go. Our arms will feel emptier than before, because no one else has fit so seamlessly into the other like we just did, all this while later.

You’ll blink rapidly, your eyelashes fluttering as you break into a nervous smile and say goodbye, promising to stay in touch. I’ll shoot a thumbs up in your direction, grinning in agreement.

We’ll part ways again, but unknown to you, I’ll turn back and look at your receding figure once more. But this time, unlike the last time we walked away from each other, you’ll turn and look at me. Your face breaks into the honest smile it did the first time we met and you’ll wave again, taking us back to the steps in front of our college.

Like I said, maybe, we’ll meet years later.

You know, catch each other’s eye across the street.

I hope we take that step towards each other and not the ones that led us away back then.